


In Which Crowley Goes for a Drive

by OlwenDylluan



Series: It Cannot Be Taken From You [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Asexual Character, Crowley's Bad Driving (Good Omens), Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, Nonbinary Character, Other, Road Trips, Snakes, does it count as kid fic if the kids are snakes but so is one of the parents, no beta we post like desperate men, snek!babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 16:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21057590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlwenDylluan/pseuds/OlwenDylluan
Summary: Nature vs nurture vs spiritual ancestry: where do certain traits come from? Are likes and dislikes always handed down, or can one just spontaneously have something in common with a progenitor?This is fluff, not philosophy. So this question is left unanswered.





	In Which Crowley Goes for a Drive

_ Father? _

Crowley looked over his shoulder. One hand was on the doorknob, and in the other he held his keys. Not that the Bentley needed them; it was a habit. A human thing. Crowley liked to fidget with them.

“Datura? What is it?”

_ Where are you going? _

“Just for a drive. Why, spawn?

_ I’m lonely. _

“Ah. Everyone asleep?”

_ Everyone but Angelica. And she’s grumpy. _

“Mmm. Right. Best leave her be.”

_ So I was wondering… _

“If I’d stay?”

_ No. _

Crowley waited.

_ I was wondering if I could come with you. _

Crowley was so surprised that he blinked. Apart from a couple of picnics, the children had never left the bookshop. Both the outings had been Aziraphale’s ideas. The second hadn’t been a surprise for Crowley, as the first had been. It had, however, been more difficult to keep track of the snakelets, who were older and bolder than they had been for their first picnic. And really, considering who their parents were, being hard to track and control shouldn’t have come as any sort of surprise.

Taking them out one at a time was a much better plan. He wondered why they hadn’t thought of it before.

(The memory of how exhausted and anxious they had been after the return from the second picnic reminded him that Aziraphale had sworn to never remove them from the shop again.) (The angel was inclined to hyperbole, of course.)

Aziraphale wasn’t around to consult, so Crowley made an executive decision.

“Sure, spawn. Come on, then.”

Datura hissed excitedly and emerged from their favourite hideaway among the dim biography section. They came right up to Crowley’s feet, and he bent to pick up the half-meter-long snake, who curled around his hands. Datura was still slim; they were lanky and long, which, Aziraphale had remarked archly, were Crowley’s genes coming through. (His contribution had been_ ping-pong balls_, Crowley had said, waving his arms in the air with exasperation.)

Datura moved to lie across Crowley’s shoulders, their tail wrapped around his bicep for stability. Crowley stepped out of the shop and down to Bentley. Beside his head, Datura’s tongue flickered madly.

_ So much to smell, Father! _

“Yeah, it’s a soup out here,” Crowley agreed, extending his own tongue briefly to taste the air. "Always is." He opened the Bentley’s door and stepped in, arranging his long legs before pulling the door closed.

“Right,” he said as the car started. “Where would you like to go?”

_ I don’t know. I’ve never been anywhere but the park. Where were you going to go? _

“Nowhere in particular. I just drive, sometimes. Pick a direction and go.” Crowley pulled out into the traffic, the sound of screeching brakes behind them making him wonder if he should be setting a better example for his child before dismissing the idea. “Driver’s choice, then. Let’s start with south. Canterbury sounds good today.”

Datura settled more comfortably on Crowley’s shoulders and alternated between looking eagerly out the front windshield and out the window at Crowley’s side.

“Don’t get motion sick going back and forth like that, now, spawn.”

_ I won’t, Father! _

Crowley drove perhaps a bit more carefully than was his wont in London, vaguely aware that he ought to be more responsible with a child in the car. By the time they’d crossed Lambeth Bridge and were heading for the A2, however, he’d fallen back into his customary velocity and handling. He idly imagined the squawks of anxiety Aziraphale would make if he were here with them.

Datura laughed in his mind, and Crowley gave a lopsided grin.

“Are you eavesdropping again, spawn, or was I broadcasting too widely?”

_ What, Father? _

“Sorry; a thought entertained me and you laughed at the right time. If you weren’t laughing at me, what amused you?”

_ My tummy feels funny! It tickles! _

“Is it a good tickle or a bad tickle?”

_ I’m… it’s good, I think. _ And Datura giggled again as Crowley rounded a curve.

_ Oho_, thought Crowley. He grinned, shifted into the Bentley’s highest gear, and increased the car's speed. Datura laughed again, and Crowley relaxed back into his seat even more, feeling his child’s cool body brace against his neck. When they rolled into Canterbury he’d slow a bit--just a bit--and roll down the windows so Datura could put their head out and feel the wind.

He knew exactly what Aziraphale would say when they returned that evening. _ How on earth did we end up with another speed demon? _

He smirked. He knew what he’d say in reply, too. _ Guess it runs in the family. _

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in a notebook for almost two weeks. I am sorry, Wiggleverse peeps!
> 
> If the children decide to engage in crime when they grow up, Datura will absolutely drive the getaway car. Crowley will be so proud. Aziraphale will have a series of the angelic equivalent to heart attacks.


End file.
